Double Bind
by SewerSurfin
Summary: A double bind: a situation of conflict from which there is no escape; unresolvable dilemma...when one brother's life is in the balance, just how far will you go, what decisions will you make, what lines will you cross, in order to give him a chance at life?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This takes place mostly in the 2k12-verse, with a few references/inspirations from other incarnations. This is a few years in the future. Casey is about 20, April about 19, and the Turtles about 18. I know I have other stories I have not updated in a long time...but this one has been building itself for months, and I just had to start writing it. Thanks goes out to Sleepingseeker for beta-ing this first chapter!  
**

**Chapter 1**

Donatello leapt purposefully across the rooftops with one destination in mind. April had called him about half an hour ago to come to her place. He had been about to head to the junkyard to search for usable salvage, but going to April's place sounded much better to him. Her voice had been an intriguing blend of excitement and urgency, a rare combination for his friend; it had his interest piqued. Wasn't she also supposed to be hanging out with Casey tonight? He usually only half paid attention when she told him of her plans with her boyfriend, but the mutant turtle was fairly certain she had previously told him of plans with Jones.

This revelation made the small, optimistic place in the back of Don's mind spark to life like a long dead generator. April had been with Casey for the last two years, but the forbidden hope the genius clung onto refused to leave. After so many years, he still loved her. Deeply. He had long ago ceased mentioning this to his brothers, as he had grown weary of them (especially Raph who was Casey's best friend) telling him he needed to move on. After all, they said, she was taken, and there was no use pining for what never was. So he hid it, tucked away in the deepest reaches of his mind for him and him alone. But he couldn't help but think: if she wasn't with Casey when she said had said she was going to be, and had called Don instead...could it mean…?

Donatello shook his head sharply to clear the thought upon silently landing on April's rooftop. The empty duffel bag slung over his shoulder thudded lightly against his side as his feet hit the cement surface. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the early night time sky coated in a thick layer of black clouds, warning of an impending storm.

The late March wind was beginning to pick up, still carrying in it the lingering chill of winter which refused to loosen its grasp. Donatello drew his tattered trenchcoat tighter around himself in an attempt to ward off the cold, but the thin material was not much of a shield.

He made his way over to the fire escape, pausing as the first rung of the ladder creaked in protest under his weight. He momentarily worried that someone may have heard the noise, but soon figured that over the howling of the wind, it was not very likely.

He continued down with more confidence, stopping only when he reached the landing outside of April's bedroom window. It wasn't that late, but he still rapped upon her window gently to announce his arrival. He could see the light on in her room behind the gauzy curtains and the shadow of her curvy form as she came toward the window. Every move she made entranced him. In his mind, even the skill and fluidity in which he and his brothers moved with their ninja training could never come close to matching one graceful motion of April's.

The curtains were pushed aside to reveal his friend. His heart fluttered lightly upon seeing her as it always did, and he found himself breaking out into a wide grin. She returned the smile, her freckles seeming to dance across her cheeks playfully at the motion. She opened the window enough for him to climb inside and then proceeded to close it behind him and draw the curtains.

"Hi Donnie!" April said, the happy expression never leaving her features. She enveloped Donatello into a deep hug, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He momentarily tensed, her flowery scent invading his nostrils and sending his head spinning.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," she continued, her breath warm upon his neck.

Donatello inadvertently trembled at the sensation, hastily taking a step back to attempt to calm the heat rapidly rising in his blood. The human released her hold and gave him a confused expression, but said nothing further.

"N-no problem, April!" Don stammered the first part of his sentence before composing himself as best he could. He was thankful that time and age had rid him of the cracking of his voice that the beginnings of puberty had years ago so cruelly cursed him with, but it was still embarrassing how April seemed to make his words jumble into a gelatinous heap at the most inopportune times. "So what's up? Didn't you have plans with Casey tonight?" He attempted as hard as he could to hide the resentment in his voice, but a hint of it still managed to work its way in.

If April noticed, she did not comment on it. "We did, but there is a Yankees game on tonight which he really wanted to see, so he's hanging out with Raph at his place watching it. I had no desire to watch it with them, so we postponed our plans. Besides…" the excitement returned to her voice as she headed over to her desk. "There is some news which I know you would appreciate so much more than Casey."

Despite himself, Donatello felt his heart begin to race in his chest. What news could possibly mean more to him than to Casey? Was she...did she…maybe leaving Casey? But then why was she so happy?

Instead, she lifted a piece of paper off the surface of her desk and went over to Donatello. Even from the distance across the room, he could tell it was an important document. It was on crisp, thick paper, and neatly typed. She handed him the paper, clasping her hands behind her back and gazing at him expectantly. Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled like twin stars. He could feel the enthusiasm radiating off of her as if she were wearing it as a second set of clothing.

His mind blanked as he read the letter's contents, his mouth going dry. One word in particular shown out more than the rest.

"H-harvard?" his voice hitched in shock before he cleared his throat. "You got accepted to Harvard? You never even told me you applied…"

April smiled slightly as she plucked the paper from his hand. She re-read it for the hundredth time that day, the grin growing as she did so. He watched her eyes as they scanned the words, disbelief hiding in their depths behind the pride.

"I didn't want to tell you until I heard something. Harvard is so hard to get into...I never thought I'd get accepted," April explained as she went to place the paper back on her desk.

"But Harvard is in Boston!" Don blurted. "That means you'll be leaving…"

He suddenly felt as if his whole world was tumbling down around him. His heart began to pound even harder, threatening to escape its confines in his chest. He took another step back.

April's eyebrows knitted in bewilderment. That was not the reaction from Donatello she had been expecting. He knew that she wanted to go to college...he had always been the first one there to help her study when she was in highschool so she got the best marks in her classes. So why this? If she had to guess, she would think that Don appeared almost panicked, and that made no sense to her. Don had always been a conundrum to her, but his behavior to her news almost defied explanation.

"Well, yes...I will be leaving, but it's not like it's the other side of the country, Donnie," she defended herself, her tone slightly offended. "It's only a few hours away...I will be home on weekends."

Donatello's mind shut off at the word leaving. He felt his brown eyes widen and his breath hitching in his throat. The rational part of his mind was screaming at him that he was over-reacting and that a situation such as this was not the end of the world. But the other part...the part he tried to hide behind a wall of equations and logistics kept playing the words over in his mind, each time more jarring and painful than the last. Something as simple as a normal rite of passage for adult humans, cut him to the core deeper than any knife. And yet, wasn't that the root of the problem? She wasn't a normal human. She was April...his April… He had already lost her once to Casey. Did he really have to lose her again?

Donatello stared at her for countless minutes, the silence between them slowly growing into an insurmountable chasm. The only sound in the room was his ragged breaths, counting away each painful second.

"How can you be so selfish?" Donatello finally spoke so quietly, so reluctantly, that April had to strain her ears to hear. Yet despite the weak tone of the words, they hit her stronger than if he had yelled them in her ears.

She immediately felt tears of anger pricking at the corners of her eyes while her hands balled into tight fists. Why was he acting like this? She was so very furious with him right now, but worse was the feeling of hurt that was growing in her by the moment, so suffocating it was squeezing the very air from her lungs.

"How can you leave m-" Donatello swallowed hard before correcting himself. "_Us_? Couldn't you just go to a college in New York City?"

"Selfish?" she echoed Don's comment in disbelief, but also spitefully. "_I'm_ being selfish?"

Her angry tone seemed to knock Donatello out of his daze. The realization of what he had said dawned on him like the mournful sunrise over a bloody battlefield. April's eyes glistened with unshed tears as a clap of thunder shook the room. The rain began in a deluge outside of April's window as if heaven had opened up its sorrow with the human. She turned away slowly, allowing the tears to begin to fall in tiny rivers down her cheeks.

"You should go, Don," she said softly.

"But, April, I -" Don tried to apologise, his words choking on his internal remorse.

"No, Donnie," she held a hand out behind her in a "stop" gesture, cutting him off. He could hear the tears in her voice. "Please, _just go_."

He said no more, opening the window and stepping outside into the torrential rain. He was instantly drenched, his trenchcoat clinging to his body. He stood on the fire escape for a moment, listening to April's muffled sobs coming from her room. He longed to go in and comfort her, but it was even worse that he was the cause of her upset. All he ever seemed to be able to do was mess things up when it came to April. When something seemed so simple in his mind, the act of getting the words out of his mouth proved to be the complete opposite. He usually ended up saying something wrong, or gracelessly babbling on and losing her interest.

He climbed back up to the roof as nimbly as he could over the slick rungs. His own tears fell, mixing pitifully with the rain. His chest burned with shame. He needed to get away. Somewhere, anywhere but here. And he couldn't go home. Not just yet. He knew April would eventually call Casey...and then he would hear it from Raph….

The wind blew in vengeful gusts, whipping his soaked trenchcoat painfully around his ankles as his duffel bag was flung from its place at his side and moved to his shell. Suddenly reminded of the pack, he figured the junkyard was as good a place as any. Maybe there he could get his mind off of her…

So he ran. He sprinted across rooftops, eventually ignoring the objecting aches from his muscles and the burning of his lungs. The reached the junkyard when the evening melted into the pitch night. The rain continued to fall, casting biting pellets of retribution onto his body. The night was deep around him, leaving nothing for his eyes but the outlines of the mountains of trash in the junkyard haloed by distant yellow lights. The ground was becoming a muddy mess as the water fell more rapidly than the ground could soak it up. Donatello's feet sploshed through the deepening puddles as he scanned the area for any possible people. Seeing no one, and satisfied he was alone, he headed to the closest mound and began to sift through its contents.

Metal clanked against metal as he was assaulted by random food wrappers and banana peels. He had no patience for this normally loved activity. It was doing nothing to distract him. He threw a tire across the area in frustration and flopped to the ground in defeat.

The rain continued to fall in multitudes, yet covered Donatello in a lonely blanket, shielding him from all but his own thoughts. He sat at the bottom of one of the mounds and leaned his shell against nameless junk. The genius shifted, digging his shell in deeper as if trying to disappear into the refuse. It would have been easier to disappear, to become an unfeeling, unknown piece of discarded waste, but when had anything ever been easy for Donatello and his family?

He draped his forearms over his bent knees, bowing his head. His eyes squeezed shut painfully as guilt tugged at his heart. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shut April out. Thinking of her was as natural as breathing to him, and over the years her presence had become one of the few calming constants in his life. And soon...she would be gone…

"Oh April...I'm so sorry…" his tired voice croaked out faintly, the words smothered by the curtain of rain.

Harvard? As a seeker of higher knowledge himself, he should have been happy for her. He should shared in this joy. In reality, despite the fear of losing her, he was so very proud of her; he wanted her to know how honored he felt that he was the first person she had shared the news with.

"But no," the purple masked turtle grumbled resentfully, "I clammed up."

He raised his arms and clasped them around the back of his head while shaking it woefully.

"Awkward Donnie had to mess it up again," his voice was tainted with the embarrassment he felt.

He flung his head back disgustedly, ignoring the sharp pain as the back of his scalp collided with something protruding from the mound he was against.

"So what did I do?" he asked to the sky, staring into the darkened expanse above him as the stinging droplets burned his eyes. "Did I congratulate her? Did I give her the praise she deserves?"

He knew he appeared foolish speaking to himself, but it seemed fitting. He was a clueless genius sitting alone in the torrential rain in the middle of a junk yard. He snorted at the mental image. Yes, definitely fitting that he talk to himself.

"_So what did I do_?" he repeated with more emphasis, the emotion running deep through every syllable. "I tell her that she's selfish? I'm the selfish one here."

The shame welled thickly in his throat, threatening to choke him. It seemed to have a life of its own now, speaking harshly in his ears.

"Why can't I just -"

His words were cut off by the ringing of his T-Phone. Instantly assuming it was April, he eagerly answered it without glancing at the incoming caller.

"April!" he said, relieved, "I'm so glad you called, I'm so so-"

His was interrupted again by the individual on the other end.

"Dude, Donnie, it's not April, it's Mikey." His younger brother breathed into the phone, his customarily exuberant voice instead bordering on frantic. "You need to hurry home, like _now_."

"I'd rather be alone right now, Mikey," Don sighed in response, totally oblivious to the trepidation in Mike's voice in his own moments of self-pity. "I'll be home later."

"No, D, now. Something's up with Leo…" Mikey tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, trying to get his message through to his genius brother.

Mikey needed to say no more. April momentarily forgotten, Donatello took off in the direction of the lair as fast as his legs would carry him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is my first attempt to write Casey/Raph interactions, so bear with me. I hope I do these two justice. I am a huge fan of Casey/Raph friendship scenes and always love when they are in stories. And thank you to all who reviewed the first chapter! I really appreciate it, and I hope you all enjoy this one as well. The reviews really make my day :)**

**Disclaimer: I realize I forgot this last chapter, so this applies then and now. I don't own TMNT, they are the property of Nick. **

**Chapter 2**

Raphael was thankful for nights like this. They were few and far between, like the forbidden candy a child hides under the covers. Nights when Raphael wondered if this was what it felt like to be normal. Normal to him was living in smelly sewers, battling in secrecy for the safety of the world, and surviving on the outskirts of reality as an elusive, unsung hero. But the real normal, the "other" normal, the one he knew almost nothing about, must have felt something like this. Sometimes he would surrender to the dream and the actuality of his life would momentarily fade away; he could be a typical young man hanging with his friend and watching the ball game. It never lasted long before the facade shattered in his mind's eye like so many fragile pieces of china, the remnants reassembling into the jagged truth...but it was always nice while it lasted.

...Not like Raphael would ever openly admit to such a thing.

He stole a furtive glance at his friend on the other end of the couch. He appeared to be just as lost in thought as Raph was, his booted feet propped on the table. Right was crossed over left, bobbing back and forth to the tune of the commercial which was blaring on the television at the moment. Casey's hockey mask was resting on his forehead, his bag of bats and golf clubs filling the space between them on the couch.

"You know what, Raph?" Casey blurted randomly.

Caught off guard by Casey's sudden address, Raph instinctively snapped his gaze back to the television as if he had been watching it in rapt interest the whole time. When he sensed Casey eyes training themselves on him and indicating he expected Raph's full attention, it was only then that Raphael unglued his vivid green eyes from the screen, but only enough to turn his head slightly in his human friend's direction. The mutant turtle maintained an air of aloof disinterest. It was not meant to be viewed as an insult to Casey, and both of them knew it; it was just in Raphael's nature.

Raphael let out a short "hmm?" in acknowledgement before returning his gaze to the television, where the baseball game had resumed. He reached forward to grab his can of soda from the coffee table and absently took a sip, the condensation on the can trickling over his fingers and landing in little droplets on his thighs.

Casey cleared his throat and turned to stare at the wall. His hand absently slipped into his pocket and began to nervously play with the object within, running it across his fingers and balling it painfully into his fist. He vaguely noted that it had begun to rain outside, and that most likely the game would now be cancelled. His mind drifted to countless scattered thoughts, lost leaves in the blustery wind. Trying to formulate what he wanted to say was proving harder than he had planned. The words hung in the back of his throat, caged into an uncomfortable submission. Any key was lost behind a blanket of uncertainty. Voicing emotions was never easy for him, and he knew that was one of the many things him and Raph had in common...which was why he had decided to talk about _this _with his best friend first.

"I..I think I'm in love," the words finally tumbled forth, as if speaking this admission was forbidden to his manly code.

This caught Raphael's full attention. He half-heard the sportscaster announcing that the game

was now cancelled on account of the rain as a blast of lightning briefly illuminated the otherwise darkened room save for the shifting muted light of the television. In that momentary burst of light, Raph saw a rare, uncomfortable glimmer in Casey's chocolate eyes, almost as if he felt exposed, open like a beached sea creature.

The red banded turtled choked a little on the sip of soda which lingered in his throat, unsure of how to respond. His first instinct was to not react at all, suddenly feeling extremely awkward even though it was Casey who had spoken. An uneasy silence rolled in, streaming in like an insidious mist. Raphael weighed his options. There was obviously something important on the human's mind, and from the sound of it, it was April. And that particular subject was one that made Raph uncomfortable. Although Donnie had outwardly stopped obsessing over April years ago, Raphael was not as dense as his brothers often took him for. He cared too deeply for his family to _not _worry about them on certain levels. Even though he was usually the last to say it, the truth was when _they _hurt, _he _hurt. The hot head's moments of brooding silence often brought unseen observation - and it was the small, almost unperceivable actions that gave his genius younger brother away. A gaze that lingered just a moment too long, a swift flicker in his brown eyes...all clues to a deeply buried truth: Donnie was still in love with April. Raph was sure he had Leo and Mikey fooled: Leo took the words at face value with his impeccable trust in his brothers, and Mikey's optimistic denial could sometimes block out a truth. But Raphael _knew._ While some of his emotions were sometimes worn a little too boldly on his sleeves, he was no stranger to hog tieing others and jamming them deep beneath hardened layers of mental concrete.

But on the other hand...Casey was his best friend. He was one of the few people in the world who _got_ him...who really understood what Raph stood for...why he did the things that he did..what made him _tick._ As much as the mutant terrapin loved his brothers, he could never deny that they would never understand him as well as Casey did. As the years passed, Raph had found himself patrolling more with the vigilante than with his brothers. Only Casey could appreciate and accept Raph's particular method of doling out his own justice against the evils of the city. It wasn't always something Leonardo would approve of (or that he wanted Mikey to bear witness to). Also, Raphael had found that when his brothers weren't there, he could focus more on the task, and less on trying to protect them in the fray. He knew Casey could hold his own, just has Casey knew the same of Raph.

So how to respond? For two young men who could hold their own?

_With some mental concrete_ _and a well timed jackhammer._

Raph plastered a grin on his face and answered, "Well, I knew it was a matta of time before ya realized how hot I am."

Casey smirked, the disquieted expression fading to one of relief, as if noiselessly conveying a "thank you" to his friend. "Sorry ta burst your bubble, pal, but you're not my type. No boobs, either...that's a deal breaker right there. Now April...she…"

Raph cleared his throat rather noisily, indicating to Casey that as much as he _did _admire the female form, he had no desire hearing of those particular details about the woman he viewed as his sister. Casey could be clueless at times, but thankfully the human got the hint. He straightened himself up in his seat and pulled something small from his pocket.

"I've been thinkin'..." Casey began, maneuvering the object from his palm so that it was held between his thumb and pointer finger for Raph to behold. It was round and gleamed in the dull light of the television. Raph's emerald eyes widened. Was that what he thought it was? "...of askin' April if she would want the honor of being Mrs. Casey Jones."

Raph's eyes widened even more, his thoughts instantly shifting to his purple masked younger brother. He would not take well to this…

But after all Casey and April had been through...they both deserved to be happy…

Raph felt suddenly torn, ripped painfully into two warring halves which refused to listen to the obvious logic of the other.

"Uhhh…" Raphael started, his words catching on the back of his tongue, unwilling to come forth.

"I know it's a big step," Casey's continued as if Raphael hadn't uttered anything at all. The human swung himself to his feet and crossed the room to flick on the light switch. Raphael blinked uncomfortably at the burning his eyes felt from the sudden intrusion of light. Casey walked casually over to his friend and presented the object for Raph's full scrutiny. It was a beautiful, delicate diamond ring, something Raphael never figured Casey would have the tact or finesse to pick out himself. The turtle eyed it warily, as if suspicious its intent...as if it was going to usher in a disaster. He shivered involuntarily to a non-existent cold and got a sudden feeling of foreboding growing in his mind, tickling in the back of his brain like dozens of silky feathers barely touching his skin. He quickly squashed the sensation...knowing only Leo and Splinter took any stock in that premonition nonsense.

Raphael shifted his eyes back to his friend, refusing to look at the ring any longer.

"I think I'm ready though," Casey rambled on. "But I...I wanted ta see what you thought first...since ya always seem to knock sense inta me when I need it. I figure you'll know what I should do…or if it's tha right thing…"

Raph leaned back into the sofa. "Ya love'r right?"

"Ya…" Jones nodded, "I do…"

"Then...uh…" Raphael frowned slightly, almost hesitant to continue. But in his heart, he knew what he should say. _Sorry Donnie..._With more conviction in his tone he added, "Go for it, man."

Casey's face lit up, as if a child who had just gotten approval from a parent. This whole situation was not something the human was used to dealing with, and the whole thing - as excited as he was about it - was foreign territory for him, as if someone had asked a cactus to take up residence in the rainforest.

In an almost distant voice he said, "This ring...it was my ma's. It just feels right giving it to April, ya know?"

"Your ma?" Raph returned, not expecting that statement at all.

Casey nodded. "My ma left when I was little...about 7 I think," Casey spoke on, more to himself than to his friend, "just up and gone in the middle of tha night. Left 'er ring on her pillow for dad ta find. No note, no goodbye. Dad was never the same." His vision misted with an unfamiliar ring of tears. He abruptly turned away from Raphael in hopes he wouldn't notice.

Raphael was _well _familiar with the tales of Casey's neglectful drunkard of a father...but Casey had never mentioned his mother before, and he rarely opened up like this. The teen turtle didn't know whether to feel honored, or completely on edge.

"So...ya…" Casey trailed off, as if the spell of his vulnerability was broken and reality had set back in. The walls were closed.

"Well, I'm happy for ya, Case."

"Thanks, Raph. I -"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the ringing of Raphael's T-Phone. The red banded turtle grabbed the phone from his belt to see Mikey's face on the screen indicating that it was him who was calling.

"Hold on, Case, it's Mikey. Prolly callin' me to ask me ta pick 'im up a pizza on my way home...lazy bum."

Pressing the answer button he said gruffly with mocked annoyance, "What is it, Mikey, this had betta be good."

Raph's playful expression quickly morphed into one of deep concern. Casey was almost taken aback by the intensity of it. Raph hung up the phone and let his hand go limply to his side.

"Raph?" Casey questioned. "What's up, man?"

"Leo…"

Raph lept to his feet like the recoil of a taut rubber band and left the apartment before Casey even had a chance to ask what was wrong. All that was left behind was the open window, the wind ruffling the curtains wildly and the angry rain flying in on its tails.

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this posted. I had the first half sitting on my computer for two months, not sure how to finish the rest of the chapter. I hope this came out ok and conveyed the emotion I meant it to while leaving Raph and Casey reasonably in character. Casey is hard to write when he's not being...well...Caseyish. So I hope I pulled it off without detouring into OOC territory. Thanks for reading! I hope to have the next chapter up a lot sooner. Other note...6 days till the movie comes out!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Seriously...no not mine :*(**

**A/N: First off, a heart-felt THANK YOU to TheIncreadibleDancingBetty for her help with Leo's condition (which still remains a mystery, sorry). I cannot thank her enough! And thanks so much to all who have taken the time to read this and review to this. So finally we get to Leo (I hope I wrote him ok…) Enjoy, and if you feel so inspired to leave a review, I would be very grateful!**

**Chapter 3**

It was getting harder to hide. Insidious and darker than the shadows it snuck upon him. It had started out small, delicate like a fine lace and hardly perceptible in the darkness. But piece by piece it began to tip the scales, to a point where denial was becoming an impossibility. With every change, every barely covered slip up, the blue masked turtle began to feel the fear manifest, gaining a terrifying reality all of its own; the uncertainty of the unknown fuelling its relentless hunger as it threatened to take him down.

Alone in the dojo, he breathed in deeply to clear his mind, the shuttering of his shoulders through the inhale betraying his anxiety. He tried to convince himself that everything he was experiencing was perhaps because he was not meditating enough; not developing his spiritual side as much as his physical side. He was becoming unbalanced, his mind/body connection teetering dangerously on a crumbling ledge. It was the only logical explanation, right?

_Right?_

He knew whatever it was, this _weakness_, he needed to fix it soon before his family noticed. He was the _leader. _It was _his _job to be the strong one and watch over them; to protect them. How could he if…

His katana wavered in his hand, as if his fingers were refusing to answer to his heed. This had been happening progressively for a few months now, a gradual weakening in his hands, effecting his ability to grip or lift things. At first, it was easy enough to ignore, to brush aside as a passing illness or perhaps fatigue from over training. Up to this point, he had been able to keep his brothers and sensei unprivy to this with some creative thinking - such as insisting his brothers needed more sparring time against each other, but as the months wore on and things only got worse instead of better, he feared that his diversions would not be efficient for much longer.

A few times he had found himself outside of Don's lab, poised to knock and ask for his assistance, but informing his brother would have made it feel more real, putting _it_ in the open like that. Thus, every time he lowered his hand and turned heel to leave, and whatever it was remained unknown; untold; yet forever looming over him like a demented spectre, twisted and ugly.

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, glancing at the clock. Mikey and Splinter would be in the dojo for evening practice soon. He needed control. He needed calm. He needed focus.

He turned his ocean blue eyes to his hand, willing his fingers to stay closed, to maintain their grip on the hilt of his katana. It had never been to this degree before. The ninja blade had never felt so heavy, reminding him of his younger years and the first times he tried to lift his beloved katanas. He sucked in another breath. Control. Calm. Focus.

_Focus._

Why couldn't he focus? He braced himself against the wall, the sharp bricks digging painfully into the flesh of his arm. He tried desperately to reign in the anxiety, to still the racing of his heart, the speeding of his breathing, the thoughts that something genuinely was wrong. He had faced armies of Foot Soldiers without flinching and hoards of Kraang without so much as a quiver, so why was he beginning to feel the panic creep in, stalking at him from the shadows? He felt alone, a single icy glacier set adrift in the sea to melt in the spring.

The katana began to shake with more intensity, the tip making contact with the wall and giving a metallic ring with every hit. His grip faltered, wilting slowly like so many plants in a drought. Leonardo watched helplessly as his katana clattered to the floor. Control. Calm. Focus. He felt his grip on them wither away as well, dry and destitute in the thirsty sand.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Michelangelo propped his skateboard upon the wall and hopped gracefully over the turnstiles at the entrance to the lair. Shutting off his ipod and stuffing it into his belt, he lifted the headphones off his ears and placed them around the back of his neck, the cord dangling down and brushing gently upon his plastron as he walked. The lair was ominously quiet, greeting his return home with a hushed uncertainty. A frown twitched at the corners of his normally joyful countenance, appearing as out of place as the silence hanging in the air.

He hadn't missed practice again, had he? He had made sure to be home in time, not wanting to invoke an unpleasant punishment from Master Splinter. Raphael and Donatello had received permission earlier to forgo lessons today, as he allowed from time to time, but with two off the hook, that meant all the more Mikey would be expected there.

Longing for some sound to fill the void, he dropped himself heavily onto the couch and switched on the TV. Flicking through the channels aimlessly and being sure to pay attention to the time (he had a few minutes to spare before he had to go into the dojo), he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. It made his stomach feel sour and unsettled like the time he had eaten week old pizza that had been tucked in the back of the fridge.

He glanced over his shoulder to the dojo, realizing that he should have heard _something _from in there. Leonardo was always the first in the dojo to warm up before lessons. The light was on, he observed, but no noises coming from within. He scrunched his snout in concern before letting out a decisive huff of air and flipping himself over the back of the couch, landing with none of his usual flourish. Mikey intensely disliked this uneasy sensation filling him and kicking his optimism out to the curb to get picked up by the trash guy. It was not at all pleasant….like how Raph smelled after practice...or having to do fifty flips because he didn't clean his bedroom, or…

His musings ended at the sight of Leonardo kneeling on the ground at the far wall of the dojo, staring silently at his katanas which were before him on the ground. He was trembling ever so slightly, like leaves in a light breeze. Mikey rushed to his side, but Leo made no indication that he noticed him.

"Leo?" Mikey asked cautiously, gently. It was as if his brother were made of glass, and at the slightest disruption he would shatter. The anxiety was rolling of his Leonardo in waves, and it worried the youngest turtle. "Dude?"

Leonardo's ocean blue eyes met Mikey's baby blue ones, a flash of fear in their depths. Michelangelo barely caught the flicker before it passed and was replaced by an impassive wall. Hastily erected, impossible to scale, it shut Mikey out, but captured Leo within. It was the castle of leadership: composure, calm, commanding respect; it didn't fool Michelangelo for a second.

"You ok, bro?" His voice was soft, sweet like a downy chick. He reached out a hand toward his elder brother, hesitating for a fraction of a moment before placing it comfortingly on Leo's shell.

"Of...of course I am." A subtle shakiness edged his words. "Nothing is wrong." He shifted his gaze to his hands, the only part of him which was still quaking at this point. "Nothing." He echoed as an after thought, more to himself than to Mikey, as if trying to futilely convince himself of something. "Just tired." He continued in a trailing whisper.

Mike wanted to believe his brother. He trusted Leo, trusted his leader to be honest with him, but at this moment in time, the orange masked turtle didn't. There was no other way for Mike to convince himself otherwise. Leo was lying. There was a vague translucency in Leo's words, as if part of him _wanted_ to be found out; wanted Mikey to figure out what he could not get himself to speak of in the open.

"Want me to get Sensei?" Mike questioned.

"NO!" Leonardo's collected poise faltered again, the dread once again flaring to life in his eyes, the sea choppy in a relentless storm. Yet as before, it was swiftly brushed aside, winds blowing away the clouds. "No." Leonardo repeated. "We need to practice Mikey. Master Splinter will be in here soon. There is no need to fetch him."

Mikey nodded in concurrence and took a step back as Leo rose to his feet.

"Mikey? Could you...uh...get my katanas for me?"

The younger brother's brow furrowed in confusion, his orange mask crinkling between his eyes as he eyed Leo suspiciously. He bent down to retrieve the swords, never removing his attention from Leonardo, and reached out to hand them to the blue masked leader. Leonardo shook his head sharply, doubt lining his features.

Leo racked his brain for an excuse, a distraction, a diversion, anything to deter the wariness that filled Mikey's wide eyes. Thankfully, the eldest brother's strategic mind did not have to plot for long, as his thoughts were interrupted by the rhythmic clacking of Splinter's cane upon the cement floor and the gentle swish of his kimono with every graceful step. Leonardo's momentary feeling of relief was instantly replaced by a sudden feeling of dread as the realization struck him at how helpless he must appear right now...and at how observant his father could be without his sons even being aware.

"Greetings, my sons," Splinter announced in a placid tone.

Mikey caught the faint scent of incense clinging to his sensei's fur as he drew closer, most likely from a recent meditation session in his room. His keen chocolate eyes settled on his oldest son after passing quickly over Mikey. He held Leo's gaze, the latter stock still with a wavering air of forced self-composure surrounding him. Leo wished he could grab onto the confidence and place it before himself like a shield, but it had formed a hasty retreat under his father's pointed stare. The mutant rat stopped a few feet in front of Leonardo, regarding him thoughtfully, his expression unreadable.

"Leonardo," he began in a measured tone. "You seem…" he paused and began to stroke his thin white beard deliberately, as if searching for the right word. "...Preoccupied."

"Me?"

Splinter arched a bemused eyebrow and replied in a playful, slightly sarcastic voice, "Do I have more than one son named Leonardo? Hmm...I did not think so...I don't recall naming the orange one over there Leonardo. I must be getting senile in my old age."

Mikey sniggered off to the side, but Splinter's sidelong glance of warning stopped the youngest mid-chuckle. Mike placed a hand over his mouth to stifle the trailing end of his snicker before clearing his throat innocently.

Splinter raised himself up to his full height, placing one arm behind his back, the other gripping the top of his cane. As an adult, Leonardo was almost as tall as his father, but the appraising look the ninja master was giving him right now made the blue banded turtle feel as if he were a small child again, caught in awe under the towering height of a parent. After a few stretching moments, Leonardo averted his gaze from his father's, remaining stoically silent, but the remaining undertow of his nervousness churned under the surface, a current in the opposite flow of his well practiced face of fortitude.

_How long can you keep this up, Leonardo? _he asked himself apprehensively. He wondered how his father seemed to have the uncanny ability to be able to stare into his sons' souls.

Splinter turned his attention to Michelangelo, the sharp motion of his head having lost all of his normal ninja fluidity. Mike startled at the sudden movement, but he quickly regained his composure when he noted the seriousness held in his sensei's expression.

"Michelangelo…" Splinter said, "Leave us. I need to speak with your brother."

Mike's eyes darted between Splinter and Leo. He noticed Leo cringe at his father's words. Mike nodded numbly and turned to leave. He normally would have made some comment about his excitement about having no training...but now didn't seem the time. His silence felt almost appropriate, and Mikey wasn't always the best a gauging appropriate behavior for given moment.

_Splinter senses something is wrong too..._Mike thought worriedly as his slow, plodding steps took him closer to the door.

"Leonardo," Splinter began, his concern for his son a balm coating his words. "I _have _noticed your distraction lately...but never mentioned it before now. I felt it was maybe something you needed to work through. But today…" He paused. "Something has changed."

"N-Nothing has changed, Sensei. I am f-fine," Leo's words faltered. He refused to meet Splinter's gaze.

"Leonardo," Splinter repeated his son's name, this time with more force and bluntness in his tone. He knew his son was proud and hated to disappoint him. "It is alright. Nothing you tell me will make me think less of you. What bothers you?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Leonardo repeated, subconsciously taking a step back towards the wall.

Raising his sons alone and with the struggles of their early years had given Splinter a rare insight into each of his four sons which many human parents were not able to obtain in their busy day to day lives on the surface. He had long ago learned each of his boys' quirks and strengths and the endearing qualities which made them all so different and dear to his heart. Splinter had known from early on that Leonardo was a terrible liar. Mike and Raph had it down to a science, Donatello had never really seemed to try, but Leonardo…

"Lies only bring pain, my son," Splinter sighed sounding distant. His eyes flickered to the picture he kept on the mantle of when he was human along with his wife and baby daughter. Leo noticed and knew his father was thinking of Karai and the lie she had lived her whole life with Shredder posing as her father. "Pain...and loss…"

Leonardo swallowed heavily, but the lump in his throat refused to budge. He watched as Splinter went over to his tree and then sat under it on his knees. He motioned for Leonardo to join him. Leo nodded his acknowledgment, and took a step forward.

The pain was quick and took him by surprise. A burning, lancing tightness in his leg overtook him, causing him to bring in a sharp intake of breath at the sudden intensity of it. He went to grab at his leg, but for some reason, this sudden motion caused his other leg to buckle and he tumbled back, his head making contact with the rough brick wall. Blackness consumed his consciousness immediately, and he fell limply to the ground. Splinter was immediately by his side, calling frantically to his eldest son. Michelangelo heard the commotion and came rushing in.

"Master Splinter...what…" Mike began, but was cut off by his father.

"Call your brothers," Splinter ordered. "We need Donatello…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Blah blah, not mine and all that jazz…**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/followed this! Again, I hope I do ok with the characterizations...if you notice any issues, please let me know.**

Waiting was killing him. Not literally, of course...but figuratively it was an agonizing torture fest. Leo, in his unconscious state, appeared peaceful and serene, a stark contrast to the nervousness he had been exuding earlier. Mikey couldn't even begin to speculate what was wrong with Leo and had been relieved when Donnie had arrived home to handle things. The genius had been soaked through and seemed distracted and distant at first, but rapidly switched gears to take a look at Leo.

The leader had been moved to the infirmary corner of Don's lab, and it was there that the purple masked turtle mumbled to himself as he checked over his oldest brother. He was trembling ever so slightly as he worked, but had managed to swallow down enough of his concern to bring his medical knowledge to the fore-front and assess what he needed.

Mikey's eyes darted back and forth between Don and Leo like the nervous flitting of a humming bird. He caught snippets of murmurs as Don talked to himself as he went about his routine. The orange clad ninja thought he heard things about pupillary response and blood pressure and respiratory rate, but he couldn't be entirely sure. With the hushed level in which Donatello was speaking, he could have been reciting to himself an amazing pizza recipe...however given the situation...and Donatello...that was highly unlikely.

Finally satisfied with his analysis, Donatello straightened himself up and turned to his waiting family. The only one who had not been observing Don had been Raph, who was pacing on the far side of the lab like a caged tiger, the worry translating into an agitated energy in his muscles for the turtle who relied so much on the physical.

"Is he...ok?" Mikey asked in a hushed and timid voice.

Splinter's whiskers twitched, but his expression remained passive.

"As far as I can tell…" Donatello began, "yes. He may have a concussion from the blow to the head -"

Michelangelo interrupted him, his voice growing in volume and speed, "But he was bleeding so much, D!"

Donatello nodded, "That's normal for lacerations to the scalp, Mikey. The scalp is rich in blood supply, and thus even a seemingly small injury may seem worse than it really is and bleed profusely -"

"So what's wrong with'm then, brainiac?" Raph butted in gruffly as he made his way over to the rest of his family. He crossed his arms across his plastron, attempting to give off an apathetic air, but the troubled gleam in his expressive emerald eyes gave him away.

"I just told Mikey -"

"Can it, Donnie! You heard what Mikey said about how he's was actin'," Raph's tone grew angry and accusing.

Donatello was caught off guard by Raphael's intensity. His brown eyes widened momentarily before narrowing and his demeanor growing defensive.

"I heard very well what Mikey said, Raph," Donatello ground out, frowning. "But from my preliminary assessment of Leo, he seems fine. I'd need to do more invasive testing if -"

"Then what are ya babbling to me for? Leo doesn't get all nervous and worked up about stuff unless there's something wrong, and Mikey said he was actin' like he was hiding something. So use that brain of yours and figure out what the hell it is!" Raph took a step closer to Don, his body tense with his emotion.

Splinter took that moment to intervene, stepping in smoothly in front of Raphael. He bent down slightly to look his fiery son straight in the eyes. "Watch your language, Raphael. That is enough," he admonished cooly. "While I agree with you that there is something else going on here, your attitude is not the correct way to be going about this. Let Donatello think and trust that he will do what he needs to do."

Raphael opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and backed down. The red masked turtle's shoulders slumped and he flopped down heavily in Don's swivel chair, letting out an annoyed huff of air as he did so. The chair rolled back a few inches from the force, the wheels squeaking painfully and assaulting everyone's ears with the high pitched whine.

"Thank you, Master Splinter," Donatello bowed respectfully to his sensei. "But I would like to wait until Leo regains consciousness to do anything more. I want to talk to him and get his view of things and go from there. For now, he is stable."

Splinter nodded his agreement. "Then that is what we shall do. I will be meditating in the dojo if you need me."

He made his leave without another word, sliding the door shut to Don's lab as he exited. Raph took Splinter's absence to spring back to his feet.

"Your plan sucks, Donnie," he glowered, eyes blazing. "Just _sit _here and wait?"

Don's brow furrowed in annoyance. "Yes, _Raph,_ that is exactly what I am going to do. There isn't much more I can do while he's unconscious. I will stay here with him and continue to monitor him, and after he wakes up, I will be able to ask him some questions. Then I should have a better idea as to how to proceed. I know you feel helpless right now, and that's why you're so uptight. Please just trust me on this."

Hearing the truth just made Raphael more on edge.

"_Helpless? _I'm never helpless. I -"

Now it was Mikey's turn to step in. "Dude, it's ok," he said in a soothing voice. "Donnie's got this. Come on, Raphie. Let's go play Call of Duty." He shot his older brother a lively grin. "I'll go easy on ya this time."

Raphael grumbled a barely audible "whatever", but didn't offer Donatello any more grief. He followed Mikey out of the lab, slamming the door behind him. The purple masked turtle flinched at the noise it made and felt the vibrations under his feet. Closing his eyes gently, he shook his head and let out a languid sigh. He knew Raph was only acting that way because he was worried about their brother, but that didn't make it any less irritating.

Sitting down at his computer, he decided to get some work done while he waited for Leo to regain consciousness. Pressing the power button, he took one last look at his older brother. Donnie's eyes were drawn to Leo's right leg (the one Splinter had mentioned seemed to be hurting Leo before he fell)...what...

...was that?

... ... ... ...

A/N: Shorter chapter than the others, I apologize, but that seemed like a good place to stop.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Not mine: TMNT, Xbox, or Call of Duty.**

**A/N: Funny thing is...it's been a while since I updated this...but then I told myself I NEEDED to write this, so I sat down and this is what came out. Enjoy!**

Leonardo rode the tides just beneath the surface of consciousness, rising up and down along with the swell of each half-formed thought. It was peaceful there, lingering in a formless haze. He was vaguely aware of voices around him that were bubbling in the distance like muffled sounds under the sea. He couldn't make out particular words, only tones of emotion: concern, worry, anger.

Then as soon as it had started, there was silence. A deep, lonely silence which cast him adrift in the currents of his mind. He instinctively drove to ascend higher, swimming through the ever present darkness. It engulfed on every side, pressing, reminding; memories and thoughts becoming more lucid, shimmers of sunlight through the rippling waves overhead.

He knew only one thing. Reach the sunlight. Reach the surface.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Donatello began to reach a tentative toward Leonardo's leg. The shadows played across the surface of his calf, the genius' closer scrutiny affirming what he had initially observed from his computer. The muscle just below the surface of his brother's skin was _twitching._ That in and of itself wasn't completely bizarre - Donatello had noted on many occasions that Raph had a talent for making Leo's eyes twitch - but for some reason it just seemed _off _to the purple masked turtle.

Inches before he came in contact with Leo's leg, his brother's eyes snapped open, shocking him. Donatello let out a startled yelp and withdrew his hand. His breathing quickened, his brown eyes momentarily wide before making eye contact with his brother. Leo's eyes were filled with a temporary flash of unfocused confusion before locking with Donnie's.

"Donnie?" Leo croaked, wincing as a he became aware of a throbbing pain in his head.

Leo's leg forgotten, a warm smile crossed Donnie's features. "Yes, Leo. You're in my lab, if you hadn't noticed. You had us all quite worried. Raph even had a few choice words to say to me about the matter."

Leo chuckled lightly. "When doesn't he?"

Leo slowly shimmied himself up so that he was supporting himself on his bent elbows. He then went to sit up, but it was a struggle as a wave of dizziness and pain shot through his head. He let out a sharp breath. Donatello caught his carefully masked distress and went to assist his brother, but a curt shake of Leo's head make Don relent.

"Easy there, Leo. You apparently took quite a bump to your head when you fell." Donatello cautioned.

Leonardo let out the rest of his breath deliberately, gradually sitting himself up on the cot with the exhale of air. He closed his eyes in an attempt to ride out the rest of the vertigo, the spinning world making his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

Donatello leaned in closer, ever assessing the leader's condition.

"How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea? Dizziness?"

Leonardo nodded slightly, his eyes remaining tightly shut. The pounding in his skull was relentless, like Raphael's unforgiving fists to his punching bag. Donatello "hmmed" thoughtfully.

Leonardo recoiled in surprise when one of his eyes was suddenly cracked open and a beam of bright light invaded his sight.

"Donnie?!" Leo spoke as loud as he dared over the ache in his head. "What are you doing?"

Following suit with Leonardo's other eye, Donatello commented casually, "Checking your pupillary response. I'm making sure you don't have any added trauma to your brain beyond the concussion I believe you have."

Leonardo swatted Donatello's hand away.

"I'm fine," Leo stated simply.

"Not from what I heard," Donatello placed down the pen light and crossed his arms.

"What happened?"

"Ahh, you don't remember. I thought that may be the case, but I was hoping you could at least shed a little light on to the situation," Donatello said, apparently privy to something in which Leo was not.

Leonardo cracked his eyes open and regarded Don quizzically. "You were _expecting _that?"

"One of the side affects of a concussion can be amnesia surrounding the event. Your memory may come back, it may not." The serious expression that Donatello often took when explaining science or medical terminology shifted to a more disquieted one as he continued, "Leo, what's going on with you?"

Leonardo's own curious demeanor immediately switched to a distant, closed off one. "I told you, I'm _fine._"

Donatello tapped his head with a finger. "Genius, remember? You're going to need to come up with something better than that."

Leonardo's eyes hardened to a steely blue before his gaze veered to the ground.

"I - I _can't,_" he admitted softly, his voice subdued to such a level that Donatello almost imagined he had heard it.

"Master Splinter said you wouldn't tell him either," Donatello frowned. He belt over to reach Leonardo's level and placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "If I'm going to help you, I _need_ to know."

"I'm the leader," Leonardo stated, raising his head again to look Donnie straight in the eye. Leonardo's eyes were determined. "I don't need help."

Donatello's brows furrowed into a deep "v" as he straightened himself out, coming to his full height.

"You are the leader, yes...but you're also my brother, and it's my _brother_ I need to help," Donatello said, his tone tight and apprehensive.

"_No._"

Donatello let out an exasperated huff and went back to his computer, settling heavily into the office chair. "Fine." Facing away from Leonardo, he waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "But I hope you realize that your stubbornness is hurting everyone. I do want you to at least stay here for a while for observation. Can you at least do that, _leader_?" The last word came out with a bitterness that made Leo subconsciously flinch.

"Sure." he murmured before lying back down.

_Darn hands..._

_Twitch...twitch…_

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Time had gone by all too slowly for Raphael. He kept stealing glances at the door to Don's lab, waiting for it to open. What had felt like hours had merely been about one, judging from the taunting clock glaring at him from atop the television. Mikey had fallen asleep about half an hour ago, laying on his plastron and snoring lightly, a small puddle of drool forming around his open mouth. One hand dangled on the floor, his dropped Xbox controller just out of reach of his fingers. His other hand was angled precariously behind his head. All Raphael could do was shake his head at the sight, but a small smile graced his beak despite his worry about Leonardo.

Turning back to the television, he started another campaign. His fingers moved deftly over the controls, as he attempted to get lost in the mission.

"Everyone rejoice, for Casey Jones has arrived!"

The booming voice of his friend carried over to the pit of the den. Raphael let out a groan at the human's announcement and motioned from the couch for him to come over. Instead of coming to sit next to Raphael, Casey came to stand in front of the television, blocking Raph's view of the game. The hot head growled deep in his throat, moving sharply from side to side in an attempt to see see Call of Duty around the vigilante. His thumbs still blazed across the buttons on the controller.

"Move your fat head, Jones!" Raphael snarled. "Get outta my way!"

Casey held his ground, his eyes narrowing in irritation.

"What gives, Raph? You get a phone call, seem worried or something about Leo, disappear, and then don't call and tell me what's up?"

Raph paused the game and shifted his green orbs to the human. "What are you, a nagging, possessive girlfriend? I gotta give you an update of my whereabouts at all times?"

"No!" Casey protested. "We…" Casey looked sheepish for a moment. "I mean Red here was concerned about Leo. It takes a lot to spook you out, Raph."

Not fully processing everything Casey had said, Raph protested, "I was _not _spooked out!...Wait...April?"

April strode in to Raph's line of vision, taking a place to Casey's right. She appeared haggard and tired, her face blotchy as if she had been crying.

"You...uh...ok April?" Raph asked uneasily. He was never good around April when she was upset.

"She was like this when I got to her apartment to tell her something was up with Leo," Casey interjected, not giving April a chance to answer for herself. "She won't tell me what's wrong."

"I'm alright, Raph," April spoke quietly. "Just had a bad day."

"Uh...ok April," the red masked turtle responded, not completely convinced, but not willing to press the issue.

Mikey stirred in his sleep, rolling onto his shell and his arm shifting to lay across his snout. He mumbled something about pirates and mashed potatoes before falling into another round of soft snoring. Raphael pushed on his little brother's foot in annoyance before standing and going to shut off the Xbox.

"I didn't call, Case, because I don't know nut'n. Leo's unconscious, bumped his head. That's it."

"Oh." was all Casey said. He took a moment to add, "So what's wrong then?"

Raph threw his arms up in the air in frustration, his voice growing frustrated. "How the hell am I supposed to know? He's in the brainiac's lab and all Donnie's doing is _waiting!_ 'Gotta wait till he wakes up' blah blah...SHIT."

Raphael jumped when April's hand gently appeared on his bulky shoulder. Her red rimmed eyes met Raph's flashing green ones. "Trust Donnie, Raph."

"I…" Raph deflated slightly, a tea kettle slowly losing its steam. "That's what everyone's been sayin'," he muttered. He nodded in acknowledgement glumly. "Ok, Ape."

Mikey let out a snort.

"Mikey looks like an idiot." Casey chimed in, trying to lighten the mood.

"When doesn't Mikey look like an idiot," Raph nudged Casey playfully.

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of Donatello's lab door sliding open.

"Leo's awake," he announced emotionlessly, not even looking out into the den. The genius' lanky form disappeared back into the depths of his lab.

Raph's eyes grew wide and hopeful and he took off. Casey followed, his golf bag of weapons clattering around as he ran. April headed over to the couch, shaking Michelangelo to awaken him. His bleary blue eyes opened slowly, gazing at April with momentary disorientation before igniting with their normal light.

"April!" he exclaimed, shooting to his feet. It never ceased to amaze April how fast Mikey could be when he wanted to be. He engulfed her in a crushing hug. "I'm so glad you're here! Leo…"

"Raph said a little about it, Mikey," April soothed. "That's why I woke you up...it looks like Leo's awake, too!"

Mike's face lit up like a Christmas Tree. He grabbed April's hand and led her in the direction of Donatello's lab. In his enthusiasm, he failed to notice the slight hesitation in her step, but she followed him nonetheless. She didn't feel ready to face Donatello yet, and her psychic senses had become an annoying buzz in her skull. Despite Mike and Raph's joy, she felt something wasn't right.

**A/N: I never meant for it to take so long to update this...SORRY! :*( *gives out apology Leo plushies* I hope this was worth the wait. :) Thanks for reading!**


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